


safety nets on fire

by advernia



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Stylistically Lowercase, has talks of drowning but nothing too morbid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advernia/pseuds/advernia
Summary: — there’s still much to learn about cohabitation.
Relationships: Jade Leech & Yuu (Twisted Wonderland)
Kudos: 35





	safety nets on fire

_i._

human legs and feet are strange in the sense that they can tire of stretching, walking, running. for a good portion of his life, he had always been swimming: with or against the current, in storm or in calm, with company or without. all the while, he's quite certain that not a single part of his body got tired of swimming. to swim is to _move_ , to move is to explore, to is explore is to discover, to discover is to learn, to learn is to _live_.

he figured that once he grew accustomed to his legs - he has never called them his _own_ , he never saw them as actual parts of his body; maybe just some extensions or conveniences that he had to live with indefinitely - that the same principle would apply. they are what make his human body move therefore with them, he can go anywhere without a care.

oh, the disappointment when he realized that it doesn't hold true, and that the human body in general is at the mercy of a concept called stamina.

why is it that the human body should have a say on where its owner wants to go?

* * *

**ii.**

off go the shoes and stripped are the socks. there's a spot on the edge of the low cliff that looks stable enough to sit on, where one could let their legs dangle loosely and the tide constantly lapping at the rocks below would stare at the bare skin with interest.

the spot on the cliff isn't his to claim and that's alright, for he chooses to stand and instead watches as the water swishes and dances around the legs that are shorter and much slender than his own; submerging every toe along with the heels but only able to reach the ankles that have walked longer miles on the ground than he has.

it's nothing to be envious about, really. the art of walking wasn't so bad and he'd grown to be quite used to it. but it's in the sea where he flourishes, his body at its best and his strength at its peak, and for a second he wonders -

_do you know how to swim?_

a light laugh. eyes create a steady gaze set on the horizon, not on the vast morning sky. he follows that gaze to end up staring at the waves that are playing farthest from the cliff.

_no, i don't. but i'd like to learn how._

feet continue kicking back and forth, troubling the waves with an energy that betrayed the declaration of exhaustion mentioned just moments earlier - each paddle has the eagerness of a child about to go out and play, the enthusiasm of a young tail fluke discovering uncharted territories, the weightlessness and freedom of air all around the world.

there's the spark of the human soul too, bursting with life at each contact with the waters.

* * *

_iii._

most don't know what the sea is really like underneath when the sun has died down and the moon becomes the siren to each and every wave. most don't even know what the sea is really like underneath when light shines upon it, charmed instead by the sparkling waters and the melodies only the tides know how to sing.

_maybe that's how humans came to discover the sensation of drowning,_ he concludes. curiosity at its peak, skin assured by the gentle rocking of waves and the warmth of the water granted by the sun. it is too late once they've gone too far from the shore and have been swallowed whole by a terrible realization: the waves and their currents are anything but gentle, the sun's light and warmth is only superficial and could hardly thaw the cold that comes with the darkness of the deep. the seas are a _lie_ , such a beautiful lie; and they are the fools who have been swept away by its pace.

it's funny, really: little do humans know that underneath the seas are where their lungs would die, but that is the place where he learned to breathe and is still the only place where he truly breathes with ease. now he goes through a masquerade, stepping into the places where humans could breathe with ease as he learns to mimic the proper chore of breathing with lungs that are now his; with the deep exhales and inhales and all that.

he'd like to imagine doing such a chore constantly till death is what drowning might feel like, but he had already watched repeated instances of humans drowning and he even drowned a couple of them himself.

_comprehending the concept of drowning is proving to be rather difficult_ , he muses.

* * *

**iv.**

the tilt of the head to the side, a distant look to a point unknown, low humming and the cross of arms against the chest. for a while, there is a moment of contemplative silence that even waters seem to respect - the sea is calm and collected and lazy, just quietly shifting about the shore and not daring to go too close to their shoes.

there are groceries in his hands that require urgent delivering, but he figures that he still has some time to spare. someone will most likely be upset by his tardiness, but that's a minor concern he's accustomed to dealing with anyway.

finally, lips open and say with certainty -

_waiting._

he blinks, runs it over a couple of times in his head.

_waiting,_ he repeats.

a firm nod, then the story goes on with eyes closed -

_at first, everything's purely instinct - you hold your breath, you try to go back or find something to hold onto. but then when you don't it'll just get worse, and you'll go desperate, panicky. you'll do something, anything: flail, kick, jump, just anything to boost you up high and get you away. but it becomes frustrating and terrifying all at once, because it's like everything you're trying to do just drags you down even deeper, even faster._

_you want to stay calm but you just can't. both your ears are ringing, your body's getting heavier each passing second. you want all that weight and pressure to be gone just to remember what it's like to breathe again. you want to stop inhaling but you also want to scream for help. but there's only sinking. so much sinking that you think that your chest is burning and you're about to explode._

_giving in is the worst thing you can do, but you feel like it's the only thing you **can** do right at that point. so you do it. everything still hurts, everything is still so heavy, you start getting lightheaded till you go dizzy. but then there's the calm. it just sweeps in, taking over you so fast and... it just feels like you're half-asleep. no pain, no heaviness, no dizziness. not fully awake, but unable to drift to sleep. waiting. _

perhaps there's the need for a well-earned pause and lo and behold, he finds _himself_ waiting. for the end of the story, for those lips to start moving again. but instead legs move themselves first, slow and steady.

he doesn't follow, not just yet.

_i... guess that's it. drowning almost feels like waiting. for a long, long time; for something, someone, anything._

another stop, the third fill of silence. he's staring at an unmoving back, going as quiet and distant as the midday sea.

_that was a recollection of your personal experience, wasn't it?_

_... yeah._

_and despite such a close brush with death, you still wish to learn how to swim?_

_dying... dying has nothing to do with it. i want to learn how to swim so i won't drown._

_naturally. but is that all to it?_

the gentle shift of the head sideways and he catches the glimpse of the softest, the _strangest_ of smiles; one that's directed to the waters.

_maybe then, i can finally learn what it's like to love the sea._

* * *

_v._

the seas, the oceans, or any body of water known to man, mermen, fae, beastkin, or any other specie or creature - those are the places he calls _home_. shallow or deep, light or dark, calm or rough, clean or unclean, inhabited or abandoned - those are the sceneries his life have revolved on and set a foundation upon, not the land and its shores and the stars and its skies and the cycles of sunset and sunrise.

his homes are _beautiful_ \- they are as beautiful the same way they are a _disaster_ , hospitable the same way they are _cruel_. they are fickle the same way they are constant as well, and so he and his brother and many others have learned to adapt to its whims. 

that's another thing. his homes aren't really _his_ homes, and he has shared each and every one of them with his brother and many others to count. sharing is concept that holds both a fragile order and a brooding chaos, both precariously fixed on unstable scales; and he finds that exceptionally beautiful too.

on the other hand, humans say a lot of things about their homes. for example, they say that a home is different from a house. a house is merely a building, but the home - the home is where the heart, where the _love_ is.

he ponders about it on occasion, those two words. 

_home._

_love._

he ponders about it when they're put together, too. 

_home_ and _love_.

what a boggling combination.

* * *

**vi.**

_don't take another step forward,_ jade declares, the volume of his voice lashing at the silence.

above his head hangs a gloomy moon with the dark purples and blues of a dimming sky, roaring louder than ever in his ears are the siren songs of his home, and right in front of him stands a human with the determination to explore what's beyond and below his home _without_ his help, _anyone's_ help; but solely with the strength of will and with two eyes and two arms and two legs.

a body and its parts, standing knee-deep in the water when they haven't fully learned how to swim yet.

just how much does this person _yearn_ for the sea?

_... come. we should go back._

so he says with his feet firmly planted on the shore, an arm and a gloved hand of his extended forwards, as far as it can reach.

with that said the sea rages and breaks apart into its many, many waves; trails of water and foam eagerly devouring the skin of feet and exposed legs, slipping through the spaces of toes, consuming ankles and thighs and claiming as high as the knees. meanwhile the smallest of ripples do their best to lick even just the tips of his shoes, only to fail. _you're too far away, far away_ , each ripple seemed to whisper sadly.

but it isn't _him_ who's too far away.

open and round and bright, those eyes study his open palm like it's a most _curious_ thing, as if in it lies the grace of the gods or the spittle of demons. like an anchor or an obstacle - take the hand and you shall go back to the ground, turn away from it and then you shall embrace the sea you wish to know, the sea you wish to _love._

_what was the best choice?_

the silence words couldn't fill was taken over by the sea - it is destroying itself in its anger; wailing, crying, _begging_. swells grow turbulent and currents turn erratic, each lap of water and touch against skin screaming _nononoohnonono_. it wants to go _higher_ , knock down the strength in those legs so that when they fall, the waves will be there to catch everything in its embrace. 

_just like before,_ they sing so sweetly. _just like before._

he's heard that so many times in the past, sung to many others who were safe on the shore. 

now he wonders if they will be accommodated again.

but then the water moves with a jerk and it almost sounds sad, pitiful in the way it sloshes with each step taken towards him and the shore. the distance gets shorter and closer until an arm lifts itself up too, and fingers land on the soft cotton of his glove.

each tip is cold on his palm, but he can _feel_ them.

_okay,_ yuu says, voice raw and _alive_.

and maybe that was alright for now.

**Author's Note:**

> 1: this was a challenge request for friends who have had the hots for eels since last year lol ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿this was a real challenge mostly bc twst storyline-wise i was halfway through chapter 2 late april/early june i think lmaooo?!?!? i tried to find some time before writing this, but i never got back to properly rereading translations or translating scripts on my own, so... while i really enjoyed writing about the sea, i have **big** doubts on how i wrote jade orz...  
> 2: yuu's character is open to more interpretation but as requested, yuu's characterization is a twist from little mermaid herself, _ariel_. instead of being curious about humans + wanting to be human, they possess a fondness for water + a strange curiosity & attachment to bodies of water, and maybe when you study them close enough, give off the impression of drifting - belonging but still somewhat out of place, is there but at the same time feels like they aren't. like _foam_ , maybe?  
> 


End file.
